Thicker Than Blood
by LadyV77
Summary: -Origins- After being abandoned by his brother, Victor looks for another way to control his baser self. He finds it in an unlikely place. Rating for language, violence, themes. See Chapter 1 for full warnings


**Title****:** Thicker Than Blood

**Summary****:** After being abandoned by his brother, Victor looks for another way to control his baser self. He finds it in an unlikely place. An attempt at shoving my favorite Marvel character into the world of "X-Men Origins: Wolverine." _Very_ eventual RogueWolverine. Rating for language, violence, themes. See below for full warnings.

**Warnings****:** This is a darker story than TDL (or any of my others really). Victor has a dirty mouth and mind, so the language will be worse than usual, though not as over the top as some stories I've seen. I don't see the point in every other word being a cuss word, it gets tedious quickly. The first part of the story takes place during the timeline of Origins, so there will be severe violence, torture, experimentation and mentions of rape. Nothing explicit about the rape, but it will be mentioned. Also, there will later be consensual sexual situations, though again, never that explicit. I just don't write smut.

Also, the characters may be OOC at times, especially Victor. Despite the fact that he has been a rapist in the comics, he will not be one in this story. It's the one place he draws the line. The only place.

**Spoilers/Continuity****:** There will be spoilers for "X-Men Origins: Wolverine," though I will be tweaking some things to better fit the story and timeline. This story is _not_ compliant with the X-Men trilogy (Origins wasn't at several points either, so that shouldn't be too hard for anyone to deal with).

**Reading Key****:** Thoughts are signified by 'these'. Emphasis and the voices in Rogue's head are in _italics_. Telepathic conversation is underlined. Basically what you're used to if you've read my stuff before.

A centered line break of multiple "x TTB x"s equal a scene change. One "x TTB x" left justified is a change of point of view.

x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x

x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x TTB x

Victor once more resisted the urge to carve shapes into the table he was seated at, waiting for his food. He'd successfully stopped himself each time he'd been here. It was a small victory in his quest for self-control, but an important one. It helped that he liked the place. They had decent prices and a damn good stew, and he didn't want to make any waves until he decided to move on to the next little Podunk cluster of buildings that had the nerve to call itself a city. Maybe he'd even leave the place standing when he did make that decision. The people here were the kind he tolerated best. The ones that stayed out of everyone else's business and didn't look at you sideways, let alone try to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger.

He imagined Jimmy would have liked the place, too. He scowled at the random thought of his younger half-brother. As much as he hated the little prick for giving up on him and deserting him, for refusing to accept what they were and trying to be "better"… he also still loved him. He was the only family he had left, and they'd been together for nearly three-quarters of a century.

Being part of Stryker's team without Jimmy had run its course much faster than he thought it would. Deadpool just pissed him off with his never-ending yammering, and Zero and the others had no love for Victor. He had been an outcast in a group of freaks. Aside from Wraith, they hadn't really been friends with Jimmy either, but he had fit in better with them than Victor had… at least he had before he'd apparently gone soft and left to find a simpler life.

In any case, it had stopped being fun. And when Stryker started to limit their missions… they had gone from being a precision strike force to a bunch of mutant kidnappers, something that drastically reduced their body count… Victor'd had enough. He fully intended to go back into the mercenary business… it was the only thing he was good at that he could stand to do for more than a few days… but for now he was enjoying being his own man. Answering to no one.

When a frigid blast of air announced the opening and closing of the bar and grill's front door, Victor looked up to inspect the newcomer. Unlike the rest of the inhabitants, he was a curious bastard. And just a bit paranoid. He'd earned it with all the shit he'd been through in his life.

The figure that came in was slight and dressed in clothes much too big. Probably a vagrant who had found the articles rummaging in someone's trash and layered them on to keep warm. Victor didn't realize until the small form pushed back the snow-dusted hood from its head that it was a female. Large green eyes locked on him immediately, and she walked directly toward him. He frowned at the slip of a thing, then stared at the thick lock of white hair that was the front section of her hair that, if cut, would be bangs. She was too young to have coloring like that, but he could smell that it wasn't artificially made to look that way. The rest of her hair was a rich mahogany that probably took on hints of red in sunlight. It looked like it hadn't seen a brush in awhile.

There was absolutely no hesitation as she came to stand beside the table he'd claimed as his. They stared at each other for long minutes, Victor taking in her shapely pink lips and straight, narrow nose. Based on looks, he'd guess her age to be mid- to late teens, but there was something about her eyes that hinted at her being older than that. Perhaps she had simply seen too much. Didn't explain why she'd gone straight for him, though.

She suddenly leaned on his table, an all too familiar military-style dog tag that hung around her neck suddenly becoming visible as it swung from the folds of her clothes. It was hanging at the wrong angle for him to be able to read the name on it, but he did catch sight of an R as it swung.

"I'm here to bring you in," a slightly husky Southern accent informed him.

Victor let out a booming laugh, startling many of the bars' inhabitants. He'd been coming in every night for more than a week and they'd never heard him do more than grunt his drink and food orders.

"You?" he taunted incredulously. "_You're_ what they send to bring me in? A fucking little piece of white trash frail? What, are you supposed to seduce me so Zero can get in close enough to tranq me?"

The girl wrinkled her nose in disgust… though he could sense it was the idea in general and not him specifically that earned her contempt… and shook her head, the odd white streak in her hair falling artfully over her left eye. She blew it out of the way with a small huff of air, and Vic automatically breathed her in. She wasn't his type, but she would have been a pretty little thing if it hadn't been for the ill-fitting clothes and undernourished frame. And he had just answered his own question; Stryker knew this one wasn't the kind to tempt him into being stupid enough to drop his guard. Not to mention that her _telling him_ that she was there to bring him in defeated the purpose of a seduction.

"So?" he prodded her.

She pulled a glove off her right hand and stretched her fingers as if they'd been trapped too long in the material. "If you don't come in willingly, I touch you and Zero drags you back."

Victor laughed long and hard at that. He was up and on her before he finished laughing, moving with a vicious speed that should have scared her. She barely blinked. Now that he was this close to her, hands fisted in the front of the too-large jacket while his body pressed her slender one into the wall, he could see something he hadn't noticed before.

There was a slight deadness in her eyes. It wasn't the complete oblivion of someone who had given up, more like the primal sadness in a creature that had been caged too long. This girl wasn't one of Stryker's death squad. She was one of the mutants he'd had them bring in for his twisted experiments. Which meant she might very well have an ability that could do just as she'd said. Stryker only kept alive and unfrozen the ones who could prove useful.

A second later his calculations were confirmed when her slender, white hand found his cheek above his facial hair. Unbelievable agony ripped through him at the instant of contact. A pained feral roar escaped him as he sank to his knees in front of her. His skin felt like it was trying to peel off him, the sensation of being burned alive and severely electrocuted combining in a way that put both to shame… and he would know. He was able to focus only briefly on her face before blackness took him, just long enough to see her mouth one word.

"Sorry."

_**To be continued…**_


End file.
